maybe one day
by huntressed
Summary: There are stories mothers would tell their children when they were very young and filled with innocence, life, and love. Stories that would end in good triumphing over bad, monsters banished into the land unknown where they can never come back again.


**i.**

There are stories mothers would tell their children when they were _very_ young and filled with innocence, life, and love. Stories that would end in good triumphing over bad, monsters banished into the land unknown where they can _never_ come back again.

But the mothers, never tell them about the good in disguise. The evil in pain, and the ones who are merely an audience, and witness of the two sides unfolding before their very eyes.

 _Enter Rebekah Mikaelson_ and her beautiful face, blonde hair only a shade away from gold, blue eyes that reflect the water of the vast oceans, and porcelain skin that can never resemble anything else but _her._

She comes into the familiar country, wanting nothing more than a fresh start. She's on her way to the great unknown, explore the world in her own eyes, free from the instruction of anyone else's point of view. It's time she took matters into her own hands.

It's time to tell her own story.

 _Cue Isaac Lahey,_ claustrophobic, was trapped in a freezer, and is still in love with a dead girl. There wasn't a day where he didn't think of her and what could have possibly happened if she didn't die, if that katana blade didn't go to her stomach.

But that's not the painful part.

The much more _painful_ part to tell is the fact that she died in the arms of his alpha, the _only_ person she truly loved. It made him think that maybe he isn't really enough. Nevertheless, he continued loving her. Even if it's just a memory of her that remains within him.

 **ii.**

They first met in the streets of Paris, Rebekah with her designer shades on, and Isaac with his scarf. She was holding a to-go cup of coffee, and Isaac was just strolling through the neighborhood. Unfortunately, the beta wasn't looking at where he's going and he collided into the girl who resembles him of a porcelain doll, only she's alive, and healthy.

She mutters obscenities as her coffee spilled on a complete stranger, rolling her eyes she looked up at him and strangely enough, her annoyance had lessened as soon as she met his eyes. However, she brushed away that thought and proceeded with her sassy comment, "Don't you ever look at where you're going?"

He looks down at her, and really, she's quite tall and he is, too. And he couldn't help but to innocently check her out while she proceeded with her obscene words. "Well, I'm sorry. Couldn't help but to be lost in thought, although, why didn't you avoid me?"

She had to hold her arm back from snapping his neck. She hated that, meeting someone who has sass completely rivaling hers, but obviously, Rebekah finds ways. "I was too busy looking at my phone for something much more important."

"Oh and how are you so sure that your text buddy is more important than my thoughts?" He asked, eyebrow raised as he stared at the smaller girl.

"Probably because my texts weren't as self-deprecating as your thoughts." And with a flip of her blonde hair, she walked past the guy with her model-like walk. Rebekah is sure that she would never want to see that stranger again, no matter what life has in store for her.

He watches her walk away in such a classy manner, he thought that she's too impossible to be real. _Girls like her doesn't exist,_ he had to remind himself. He watched her blonde hair disappear into the crowd of people in the main streets of Paris and he thinks that he's unlucky. Far too unlucky to have met her.

 **iii.**

Four days later, Rebekah is sitting on a patch of grass beside the Seine, her legs tucked underneath each other. A particular novel by Jane Austen is between her hands and a baseball cap is placed on top of her head. Not really fashionable, but Rebekah doesn't care. All she wants is a peaceful day.

But all peace went to trash when a ball hit the back of her head. _Fuck, that hurt._ She mentally cursed. Rolling her eyes, she stood up and the first person she sees is a very tall, very attractive, yet very annoying man who just happened to be the very same man who bumped into her sometime this week.

"Oh, just my luck. It's you again." She rolled her eyes once more and crossed her arms.

"Don't be too excited." Isaac replied, a slightly mischievous smile curling on his lips. It amused him to see what kind of effect he can have on this girl, she's pretty, he'll give you that. But he finds her too… intimidating and too feisty. Sure he has a knack for feisty, independent girls, but her? _No._ He'd rather be stuck in a room with a _very_ angry Peter Hale than suffer having to be with her.

"Who says I'm excited?" She raised her eyebrow as the rhetorical question dropped out of her mouth.

And it makes him a little bit uncomfortable because she does have very similar traits to Lydia, Allison, and Cora all in one. It haunted him, _home._ But he shoved that thought away into the back of his head, there is no way he'll show vulnerability in front of this girl and the other people around him.

"Alright, you got me there. But I wouldn't have remembered myself if I was in your place." Isaac mused, scratching the back of his neck. He full on knew that he's not really making any sense right at the moment, but he couldn't care less about that.

Rebekah's eyebrow raised, he has wits, she must admit. But she shall never see herself affiliated with someone such as him. If there is anything that Rebekah had learned from a thousand years of existence, then it's the fact that everyone hides pain, they hide it with a smile, with witty words, and with awkward actions that will eventually make someone else laugh in amusement.

She can see his pain. It's written all over his blue eyes, and it's very clear to her that someone he holds dear _is gone._ Far too gone for saving. And she understands, but she masks her understanding with the serpentine tongue beyond her pink lips.

"Too bad your memory's not that good, then." She replied, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

And she reminds him too much of everyone in Beacon Hills to the point where he had to turn away, turn away and let himself accept the defeat. An argument that was never started, and memories that will forever be haunting his memories.

He ran away as if it's the only thing he knows how to do. And he'd rather run than bring himself to face his problems. To Isaac Lahey, it was the only solution.

His lacrosse ball lay forgotten on the patch of grass beside the beautiful blonde, and she picks it up, puts it inside the pocket of her leather jacket, and she continues on reading. Rebekah didn't know why she kept it, but she figured that if there is any way that she could see him once more, then she ought to return the stupid lacrosse ball back to him.

 **iv.**

 _You're such an idiot._ Rebekah—now going by the name **_Celine La Roux_** to mask her former identity—had groaned in pain as she toppled over _someone_. The lacrosse ball which she kept hidden in her leather jackets had rolled over near a lamp post, she rolled her eyes and stood up, extending her hand afterwards to the very annoying stranger she met a little over a week ago.

"Fancy meeting you here, also, it may be of interest to you to pick up your stupid ball that just rolled over to that bloody lamp post." She reminded him, her gaze shifting over to the ball.

There was a smile on Isaac's lips, and he thinks that it is absolutely thoughtful of her to think about returning it to him. Though that lacrosse ball may not mean much to anyone else, it certainly means a lot to Isaac Lahey. It reminded him about home, and he dreaded the day where he would lose the only reminder he has of the life he wanted to leave, as well as remember.

He picked up the ball and jogged his way to catch up with the blonde who has gathered so much of his attention. "I'm starting to think that we may have gone off on the wrong foot. Isaac Lahey." He grinned, extending his hand as means of introducing himself.

A smile graces her face as she holds his hand and shakes it, "Celine La Roux." _Oh my god you are such an idiot, Rebekah!_ She internally yells as she can feel the warmth on his skin, her nostrils widening at the werewolf smell lingering on him. It's either he _is_ a werewolf, or he is associated with one.

In turn, Isaac can hear her heart beating, and it is slow. Slower than a human being, but there is no lie into anything that she said (not that he was looking for lies, or anything).

It is a little game that they're playing; hiding from one another. Their true natures clawing itself out and tearing through their defenses, however, they both manage to hold it back from showing. They are aware of the consequences.

"Would you care to join me for coffee?" He asked, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

A smile graces her lips, followed by a slight hint of laughter. "Okay, then. Coffee it is."

 **v.**

Every day they see each other. Even Chris had gotten around to wondering as to why Isaac had been going out almost every day, giving pathetic excuses such as "I want to see the Seine." Or "Go back to Notre Dame" or maybe even, "See the ducks at the river."

It took Isaac long enough before he finally told Chris that he had been talking to a girl, a certain blonde girl who definitely resembles a porcelain doll. Except her mouth reeks of sass and sarcasm, and it puts his wits to shame because really, she had a lot of things to say and it always shuts him up without any doubt.

"Well I hope this one turns out great for you." Chris gives him a well-deserved pat on the back before he goes back to his laptop.

"There's something else Chris," Isaac says, and he knew that it's now or never. He takes the risk anyway, because he really does want to share his experiences to Chris. "She reminds me of Allison."

Chris' focused stare on the laptop was broken when he shifts his look towards Isaac. "Allison? How?"

"Well she actually reminds me of every girl in Beacon Hills. Lydia, because she's _smart_. Sure she doesn't understand how she could be smart, she honestly thinks she's stupid. But I think not, she knows a lot about the world more than anyone else I know and she's breathtakingly beautiful. Cora since there's this fire in her eyes, the one where you see that she's born a fighter. Someone will eventually fight for her family, everything she believes in, and herself as well. And… Allison because honestly? She's fiercely independent and she really does know how to take care of herself. Very much like Allison. And she knows how to take my breath away without even trying, she can make me feel less… numb." Isaac said.

And it brought a smile to Chris face before pulling the young man into an embrace. Isaac thought to himself, what did he ever do to deserve these people? The people who eventually made a huge impact on his life. But then he relishes in it because it makes him feel wanted.

"I want to meet her."

And Isaac nods.

 **vi.**

Rebekah sends a call to Elijah, describing to him about a certain werewolf who goes by the name of Isaac Lahey. She speaks of him in the fondest of ways, and she can certainly feel the light coming across her darkened soul ridden with guilt all because of him.

"Well this looks like you've found someone who you wouldn't share a tragedy with." Elijah chuckles. "Although, dear sister, I must remind you that he is a werewolf. It's not safe for the both of you to be together. If you want this to last—"

And she cuts him off because it's actually hurting her because she knows _exactly_ what Elijah is saying. "It's either I have to turn human, or he has to be a vampire. Both very unlikely happenings. But I have to save it while it lasts. It's not every day I find someone like him."

"Just promise me you won't hurt yourself, dear sister." He replies.

"That's inevitable, Elijah, I'm afraid."

She puts the phone down and immediately opens the door to accommodate an impatient werewolf waiting outside her hotel room. And if she's going to make this worth it, then she at least has to be honest with him.

And there is the feeling on the pit of her stomach, so familiar that is has come to haunt her by the rest of her life. That feeling is _fear._ She's afraid that he might not accept her, accept the fact that she lied to him about who she is and what she is, _entirely._

But she can't help it, she was supposed to be running, or becoming free, at least.

"Isaac, I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"My name is not Celine La Roux. I'm Rebekah Mikaelson, and believe it or not I have graced this Earth for almost a thousand years since I am one of the original vampires. And I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I had to lie to you because I don't know what I'd do if you found out about the truth. And I'm afraid I'm already falling too fast so I have to tell you the truth before I make mistakes once more." She rambled on, tears forming in her eyes.

And she was surprised when Isaac pulls her into a hug, his lips gracing the top of her head as she cries. "I will accept you for what you are, and I will try to understand you no matter how confusing and complicated your life is. I promise to try, okay?"

 **vii.**

When she meets Chris Argent, she was surprised since the first thing he did is to pull her into a hug. She did hug him back, but she never knew what she did to deserve such a warm welcome. Rebekah Mikaelson knew that for certain, she was never a person to deserve something like that. She's a _monster,_ a queen of disaster, and she knew that everything she touches _falls apart._

"So, you must be Celine. Isaac has been talking about you, _a lot._ "

And it brings a wide grin to her face as she shifts her attention to Isaac. She doesn't know if it's just another uncertain feeling of hers, or she really is falling really hard for Isaac Lahey. And so she spent the rest of the night on that dinner talking to Chris and Isaac about the one million things they happen to agree on.

"Isaac may or may not have mentioned that you have a load of siblings, how are they?" Chris asked.

Of course, _he had_ to ask. It was by far one of the most sensitive topics for the female original and is yet to learn how to effectively endure it. "They're quite well, thank you very much for asking. Although, I haven't been in contact with them for weeks so I'm not really sure about that."

He nods and she can read it on him that he decided to leave the topic alone. That he can sense the uncomfortable atmosphere that generated away from Rebekah. So she smiled at him, hoping to lighten the mood, _in a way._

"Isaac has told me a lot about your daughter." She blurts out, and suddenly, his head jerks up and the most painful of smiles comes around to view in front of her. She knew that there are different kinds of pain in his eyes and she just made it worse by bringing up Allison.

 _Family must be a sensitive topic to everyone, nowadays._

"Allison, yes. She was my only child." Chris answered monotonously, and Rebekah couldn't help but to think that Isaac probably deserved Allison better than he does Rebekah. It was painful, too; but she had to endure.

"She seems lovely, I'm sorry for your loss." She told him.

 **viii.**

And they grew closer and closer together within months. Somehow, it was perfect for the both of them. They didn't care about the one million problems that came along with the rivalry of their species. But then Rebekah received a call from Klaus, _he needs help._

Their mother is back, and she is coming for Klaus' daughter. And she knew that this is what she wanted, she wanted a life, a child to raise like her own. This is her chance. But she also wants _this._ To be with Isaac, to feel every single bit of him.

She wants to hold him close to her and inhale the smell of that icy aftershave he always uses, or maybe it was his cologne. She wants to be able to feel him next to her and make sure that the nightmares are gone. She wants him to reassure her, and seeing him smiling at her is enough reassurance.

But she knew that one way or another, her old life would catch up to her, and she can't just drag him into it either.

 _She's facing this alone._

 **ix.**

He faintly remembers falling asleep next to her last night, but when he woke up, she wasn't there anymore. _None_ of her things is there, except for her scarf and his lacrosse ball untouched on the nightstand. So he takes it, and there was a note.

 _Maybe one day._

And that is all.

He didn't need to think twice, because he understands anyway. Even without an explanation, he understands. He knew that all she has is time, and that her time is too precious. She couldn't exactly turn him either, he's a _werewolf._ He'd die.

And so he hopes, that maybe one day. Maybe one day, it'll happen.


End file.
